Lest They be Torn Apart
by FlimFlamFan
Summary: Calvin was never particularly open about his past. Perhaps it was as quiet as he tended to be; a dull life led by an otherwise dull man. But no secrets are kept forever, and Calvin's was no exception. To make matters worse, that past is catching up and closing fast. What's a poor boy to do?
1. Chapter 1: The Dancing Lesson

Lest They be Torn Apart: A Lackadaisy Fanfiction

(Author's note: Calvin is aged up from the comics; he's now 20 years old, as opposed to 18, for story reasons that will be addressed later on)

Chapter 1: The Dancing Lesson

Calvin huffed and sat down, looking up. The record player hadn't stopped, and Ivy smiled brightly down at him. "Come on," she said, holding out her hand, "Haven't you got one more in you?"

Calvin caught his breath and shook his head, looking up at Ivy. "I dunno, you...you seem more used to this kind of thing."

"Didn't you play baseball or something?"

"I was a pitcher and I always went last to bat, I'm not much help unless you need me to start throwing things at you."

"Nah, of course not! C'mon, please? I feel like you just got here!"

Calvin stood. Ivy clapped her hands together and trapsed over to the Victrola, putting the needle back to the beginning of the record. She quickly grabbed Calvin's hand.

"Okay...like this!"

Calvin moved his feet and held Ivy's hands tightly...Ivy liked that feeling, even if at the back of her mind she knew he was only doing it because he had not idea how his hands were supposed to move. He would constantly look down at his feet to make sure they were doing the right things, making the right steps...and not stepping on Ivy's feet. They continued like that for a while. When the music stopped, Calvin did, too, his tail up and off the ground, and his ears standing to. He smiled and heaved in air, unable to sweat. Calvin collapsed onto a sofa in the small room, and Ivy collapsed next to him. Ivy looked over.  
"Phew….that's enough for today." Ivy said. "Anything else you need while you're here?"

"I'd like to stay a while...just to be around." Calvin replied. He hadn't actually visited anyone in a month or so. He just liked the company of someone other than his mom.

"Sure!" Ivy said. She walked over to a small dresser. "Might have to look away for a moment, I haven't got much time until we open tonight!"

"You're going out?"

"Of course, why wouldn't I? Now that people actually go there again, why not?"

People had finally come back to the daisy, for a number of reasons, the biggest of which being them finally obtaining a decent source of alcohol that flat refused to work with Marigold, but also because of help from an 'old friend' who had all sorts of money and nothing to do with it but pour it all over Mitzi and the Daisy.

"Wanna come along?" Ivy asked.

"Hmm? Oh, I dunno if I should, I have to be home soon."

"Oh, tell her you got called into work late or something."

Ivy headed over to him, now changed into a green, sleeveless dress and a pair of dancing heels. Calvin, meanwhile, was just wearing a sweater vest, shirt, and slacks….not dirty, by any stretch of the imagination, but not what he figured appropriate club attire would be.

Ivy was awfully close to him, to the point where he could feel her breath on his nose. He had no choice but to look into those big eyes of hers. "Oh, Freckle, c'mon...I can't just go without a date, can I?"

"Hey, I dunno about calling it a date, we barely-"

Ivy felt that in the pit of her stomach, but she didn't miss a beat. "Well, then it'll just be friends! Just friends going out for a bit of dancing."

"I'm hardly dressed to-"

"Have you seen what some people wear? You'd look fine...please? I gotta have _someone_ to dance with, and you've been doing well!"

Calvin thought on it for a moment. He could handle a bit of lecturing from his mother, he was more than old enough to do that. Ivy seemed so insistent, and he found it hard to say no at the best of times. He sighed.  
"Alright. I'll go."

Ivy jumped up and dragged Calvin with her. "Oh, thanks, Freckle! I knew you'd get out of that rut you're in!"

"Rut?"

"Well, what other word is there for it? You never go out, you've been moping a lot, you never seem to try and...get involved with people..."

Calvin looked down and scratched the back of his head. "I guess I have been distant. There's a lot of stuff going on in here." He tapped his head. "It's hard to keep up with sometimes."

"Oh, I see. Well, I dunno if you can forget about all of it, but if you wanna try now's your chance." Ivy held his hand and squeezed, looking up at him and giving him that familiar friendly smile. He gave it right back.

"I can try, at least. I feel like I can."

"Great...so what are we waiting for?" She perked up and walked right out the door, and Calvin sort of got dragged along. He always admired how Ivy was able to cheer him up, even after the nigh constant moral dilemma of his work. He normally wouldn't do this, but he held her hand all the way to the Daisy.

His tail gently swayed and he looked down. "So...are we still having a lesson next week?"

"Next week?"

"A dance lesson? I like them." He said. "I like spending time with you."

Ivy scoffed and looked down, bashfully. "Aww….of course! Door's always open, Freckle." She looked up and smiled warmly, leaning up on his arm. "Calvin?"

She didn't use his name that often. He looked down. "Hmm?"

"Do you have a sweetheart or something?" Calvin cleared his throat.

"I...don't, no. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I just figured. We-I mean, you remember when we kissed. In the pig truck?"

"I remember that, yes."

"I just wanted to know why you never really followed up on it."

Calvin sighed. "Ivy, I've...been thinking a lot." They crossed the threshold into the Daisy, the air and the music hitting them as they crossed in. Calvin took them to a corner, away from people and pretty quiet. He looked Ivy in the eye.

"Ivy, I want to be able to be with someone. You, in particular." He said. Ivy nodded and crossed her arms. "So...why're you waiting, Freckle? I mean I'm not exactly running from you!" She said, leaning on the wall.

"Ivy, you know what I do for a living now."

"I'm...well aware." She said. She furrowed a brow. "You don't wanna try and pull the 'i'm a bad man, Ivy, you need a good man to hold you through the night, you delicate little flower!' bit are you?"

"No, I just don't know if I have a very long life ahead of me...that, and I'm not quite made for killing." He said. "I go to church, I pray some nights...I'm not the sort of person who's supposed to do this at all! It just weighs on me a lot, Ivy." He sat down in a stray chair left by a guest who was now probably somewhere on the floor near the stage. Ivy looked down as he sat.

"So...you're not sure where you're going and you think you're gonna get killed before you can do anything meaningful?" She asked. She put a hand on his shoulder.

"I guess I just don't want my last moments to be facing the sky after a shootout and being sorry that I couldn't get back to you."

Ivy sighed and drooped her ears. "But...you don't want those last thoughts of yours to be about how you never said 'I love you', right? That would be even worse." She said.

Calvin thought a moment, his face in his hands. He looked up at her.

"I figure it might be, yes." He said.

"Wouldn't you rather be able to think about this?" She kissed him gently. It was somehow better than the 'movie kiss' in the pig truck, and he found himself standing and hugging her tightly, pulling away from her lips.

"It would be miles better for that to flash by."

Ivy smiled and looked up at him. "I think so, too." She looked out to the floor. "We came here to dance, right?"

"We did."

"So let's get to it!"


	2. Chapter 2: Erin Go Bragh

Chapter 2: Erin Go Bragh

Ronan Flannery lived in Ireland all his life. He tried his best to get independence, and now wanted to unify it fully and completely break the bonds of the English. But Ronan was on the run from something. Ronan got beat up by policemen during a protest in Ireland, far from his native Cork. Broken and on the run, he'd fled to the United States and got a job putting Bevo in bottles in . He was looking for an old friend of his. Sadly, he only had one lead, which led him to a little restaurant on one side of town.

Mitzi sat in the office of the Little Daisy, just up a flight of stairs hidden by a doorway. She looked at books, with a bit of help from Lacy. Lacy was a sort of financial wizard, and Ivy appreciated the help. "Hmm...so we made quite a bit this week. Think we should invest any, Lacy?"

Lacy shook her head. "I say we keep it in for now."

"Are you sure? We have 5600 dollars, that's nothing to laugh at!"

"I don't know what we could invest in other than property that wouldn't draw some kind of attention in the long run. Why don't you get yourself something nice? Maybe redo the walls in here?"

"Maybe something for Wick?" Mitzi had still been eyeing Wick and his fortune for a while. Of course, it didn't stop at his fortune. She couldn't quite remember anyone who she loved to be around more than Wick, save for the late Atlas May.

"...of course, something nice for Wick could work."

"What's the matter?"

"Hmm?"

"There was a pause before you said 'of course', and you didn't exactly sound thrilled."

"Well, he has just about everything he could want." Lacy shrugged. For reasons we won't discuss at the moment, Lacy was certainly not interested in Wick. But, speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Wick entered without knocking and kissed Mitzi on her cheek. "Hello, Mitzi...how're you?"

"Wonderful. We're making an awful lot more than we were just a month ago…"

"Well, that's fine. Mitzi, I wanted to ask you abo-" The door swung open. Viktor was trying in vain to hold back a large, angry looking cat in a flat cap, shirt, work pants and brogues. Viktor huffed. "He's...writhing too much!" Viktor tightened his grip as the frightened party looked on. Viktor laid a large, open handed slap on the other one's face, which the assailant responded to by punching him square in the jaw and hissing. "I'm not gonna hurt anyone if you just...let...go!" Viktor slammed him up against the wall. "Vhy are you here, eh!?" He snarled into the man's face. "I'm here for Calvin, but I see he ain't in today!" The man's accent was thick, and his speech was gruff, yet so quick that someone unfamiliar with the accent could hardly understand it. "Speak...Slow!" Viktor hit him again.

"I'm here for Calvin!" He said, panting and rubbing his cheek.

"Calvin? What do you want with Calvin?" Mitzi asked. "More importantly, who are you and why're you starting fights?"

"I started fight, miss Mitzi." Viktor said.

"Viktor, .we talked about this!"

"Ja, ja…"

"What do you want with Cal?"

The man looked up. "My name's Ronan Flannery, I knew him in Ireland."

"Ireland? He's never been to Ireland befo-"

"He's lying. Something happened over there he doesn't like t'talk on."

Mitzi swallowed nervously. "You're not here to kill him are you?"

"Kill him? 'Course not. I have a message about something. Something he'll want to know about." He said. Wick furrowed a brow. "Something you can't share with the rest of us, I presume? Some big secret?"

"It's about a friend. Killed a week ago. Calvin HAS to know." Ronan handed over an envelope. "It's important. Make sure he gets it." He looked at the clock. Viktor let him down as Mitzi grabbed the note. "Viktor, let him go." Viktor stepped back. Ronan sighed.

"I'm sorry about the fright, ma'am. Just...get it to him. I've got a place t'be." He rushed out. Must've been late for his job at the Brewery, putting cheap imitation beer into bottles. Mitzi scratched her head. "Well...apart from the fighting which was _completely_ uncalled for, Viktor," She glared at Viktor, who looked down, "Now we know that Cal went to Ireland. Just when was he gonna tell us that?"

Wick looked over. "Well, maybe that Ronan guy was right. Something happened, the kid's fragile already, bound to be a secret or two in there. Say, where is the boy anyhow?"

"Not sure. He and Ivy are late." They weren't late by much, but the both of them were typically early. Mitzi figured she knew exactly why they were, but she wasn't just going to assume. Lacy looked at the clock as well. "Mr. Sable, we have a quarry inspection today." The two walked out, Wick putting a gentle smooch on Mitzi's ear. And so, Mitzi sat and waited for someone to come in to ask about the schedule.

Calvin walked in, holding his jacket in his hand, wearing a flat cap, sweater vest, black tie, shirt, slacks, and a pair of brogues his mother bought him for christmas a few months prior. He looked at Ivy. "Morning, anything for me or Rocky today?"

"Morning Calvin. We're well stocked, so no work for you today, but someone named Ronan came looking for you. He wanted to give you this."

"Ronan? Ronan Flannery?"

"From your mystery trip to Ireland." She looked up, looking annoyed. "The one that Ronan said something happened on? Some sort of-"

"I get it." Calvin said. He looked almost angry and took the note. Mitzi sighed. "Sorry to press."

"It's fine, I shouldn't have yelled." he said after a small pause. "I'll read this later."

Calvin was sure he knew what was on the note. But he couldn't pick it up to read just yet.


	3. Chapter 3: Day Off

Chapter 3: Day Off

(Author's note: Just to fix a mistake from the last chapter, I mentioned that Calvin looked at _Ivy_ to ask for work, when it should have been _Mitzi_. Just a heads up)

Calvin sighed and put on his tweed jacket, walking out of the Daisy. He slipped the letter into an inside pocket. Ivy smiled, herself wearing a cardigan, sports knickers with long argyle socks, and a pair of flat oxford shoes. "Hey! Any work? Daring adventures?" Calvin silently shook his head. "Nothing today. I have the day off." He said. He looked uneasy.

"Freckle, what's the matter? Usually people enjoy days off."

"Nothing, I...it's personal." He said. He looked at her. "I wouldn't know what to do on a day off anyhow."

"Well, you could spend it with me?"

"You mean to tell me we spent all night last night together and you still aren't tired

of me?" He smiled.

"Aww, Freckle, how could I get tired of you?"

Calvin sighed and purred. "Where do you want to go?"

"The park seems nice! They're still having that fair! We should go!"

"Sounds like a nice day. Let's get going." He started to walk with her towards the park. Calvin walked slowly, trying to enjoy any time with Ivy that he could. He got a pretty rough scolding from his mother the night before, but after finally getting things off his chest, for the most part, he didn't much care. He was focused on Ivy, and all the things he liked about her. She was everything he wasn't, really. Exuded confidence, extremely intelligent, didn't seem scared of anything...meanwhile, Calvin had to go nuts to even do his job properly. He admired her in a lot of ways.

But Ivy wasn't just focused on what she liked about Calvin; his looks, his sweetness, his shy but big sense of humor...she was focused on what had him so troubled. She tried to think. Maybe he did have someone? He stormed out of Mitzi's office, had he been fired? Had something gone wrong? What was eating him?

"Hey, Freckle, not to press too hard, but what were you so fuming about?"

"Pardon?"

"Earlier, you just looked almost raging! Had to be something big. You still have a job, right?" She asked.

"Well, I still work for the Daisy, yes. It wasn't about that." He said.

"What was it then?" Ivy looked at him squarely, stopping right before they made it to the park and stepping off the path so the gate wouldn't be blocked. Calvin looked down and avoided eye contact.

"When I was 18 I spent a year in Ireland. I was going to school there. I wanted to write, so I did, mostly essays and such about politics and independence and such, but I never got intensely involved. Started a book but never finished, and ended up coming back home."

Ivy's eyes lit up. "Wait...you told me you never did anything dangerous!" Calvin shook his head. "I was writing from the far south, it was hardly dangerous!"

"Then what happened?"

"I really don't like to talk about it, but Mitzi found out I'd been without asking."

"Oh, so that's why you're mad!" She crossed her arms and smirked, furrowing her brow. "Looks like _someone's_ not as innocent as they say they are, huh?" Ivy was just glad that Cal was being as honest as he could be. "You little criminal, you!" She cooed. "I bet you did all sorts of romantic sounding articles and poems about the fight for ol' Erinn, saving it from the evil rulers, while some mean old constable was knocking down your door ready to arrest you for crimes against the crown!" She gestured wildly and Calvin sighed with relief, holding her hand. "It was less romantic than that."

"Well, what was it like?"

"Picture...school. Like, your school. Only in a much prettier place." He said, walking through the gate. "I went to a school in Cork, where my mother was born. I went for writing." He said. He held her hand as they walked. "You can drink legally in Ireland, but I never did drink too much. 1 or 2 here and there." He said. Ivy noticed a bit of an accent starting to leak from him.

"Why'd you go? HOW did you go? Aren't you poor or something?"

"Well, an uncle died and left a large inheritance and my mother wanted to use if to send me to Ireland for a time. She always wanted me to at least visit. 'It's your heritage, Calvin', she'd say."

"And how come you never use that accent?" His accent was obvious now. Coming from him, Ivy thought it was sweet and warm.

"Never used it outside of the house when I was young, got made fun of for it when I was a boy."

Ivy looked down. "Oh, Freckle...that's horrible! You won't have to worry about that with me." She squeezed his hand. They walked about, took photos in the small photo booth, ate fairground food, and played games. There was a game of horseshoes going that Calvin one with barely any trouble at all, and a shooting gallery that Ivy simply had to try. Her experience on the rifle team came in handy, and she became the first person of the day to hit everything in the gallery, winning herself a few large prizes in the process. The day started to end as they rented a small boat and went out on the reservoir, with Calvin rowing.

"...which bleeds into geometry, because almost all of that involves triangles. So the Pythagoras stuff is real important. But that's pretty basic if you ask me, I'm already onto calculus." Ivy had been talking non stop about math, a favorite of hers. Calvin didn't understand a word of it -he was more a literary man, himself- but Ivy looked incredibly happy whenever she would talk about it. He did try and keep track of what she was saying, though. It seemed impolite not to. "So...you're telling me all triangles work that way?"

"No, not _all_ of them, just the ones with right angles."

"Oh...right. I've got it."

"Did they not teach you that here? Or...in Ireland, for that matter?"

"I'm sure they did, but if you could see my math grades you'd know why that would be a moot point."

Ivy put out a small chuckle, looking up at the sky. "We've been out a while...the sun's starting to dip down."

"Oh, it must be getting late...we'll wanna head in." Cal said in response, starting to row back to the dock. He hummed a little bit of an old song. Ivy sat there in silence, listening to him for a bit, until she joined in herself. She slowly started to sing along.

" _I dream of jeannie with the light brown hair, borne like a vapor on the summer air,"_  
Calvin giggled. "I'm at a different part of the song, Ivy."

"Oh, are you now? And what part would that be, Freckle Mccormack?" She jokingly referenced John Mccormack, an Irish tenor. Calvin sang.

" _I long for jeannie with the daydawn smile, radiant in gladness, warm with winning guile, I hear, her melodies, like joys gone by, sigh-"_

"Calvin!" She stopped him as he kept rowing. "You sound great!"

"Oh, uhm, thanks." He looked down shyly.

"Is every Irishman just a good singer? Never met one that wasn't."

"There's plenty who can't sing." As they hit shore, he started to use his strong, Midwestern American accent. He held Ivy's hand, still. "I've got to get home now...we're in different directions, aren't we?"

"We are, yes."

"Do you want I should walk you back to your dorm?"

"I wouldn't say no to that if you paid me to." She leaned into him, sighing and looking up at the stars. "You can still see them from here. Can you see them in Ireland?"

"Of course...there was a spot where a friend of mine and I lived near the edge of town. Every clear night, you could look up and see just about everything. It was like nothing else."

"Oh, Freckle, you just make me wanna go to Ireland real bad! Is it still tore up from-"

"It's complicated." He quickly said. He rubbed Ivy's side. "I'd love to go with you someday, though." He kissed her ear. She purred all the way back.

The two were out front of the door of her building. Ivy noticed one of her roommates, Olivia, starting down the hall. What a...bad coincidence. She'd seen that weird thing with Rocky and now this? Yikes. "Calvin, I love you but my roommate is coming and I've already got enough scandle riding on my head because of your cousin."

"What did Rock-"

"Not important, nothing dangerous or unfaithful."

"I didn't think that at all, I just wa-"

She kissed him deeply and held him, her arms around his neck. Calvin hugged her tight, his arms wrapped around her...right as Olivia reached the door. She opened it and found them.

"Oh...Ivy. I was going to get something I left in class...who's-"

"My sweetheart here? Calvin! Say hi, this is Olivia."

"Hi." Calvin shyly said, shaking her hand. Olivia nodded and walked off.

"Well...there goes MY night! All she'll wanna talk about's the orange cutie with the big bright eyes and the gentle little smile."

"I hope you're not mad?"

"Oh, tomorrow's Sunday, I don't need to be up. Besides, talking about you isn't exactly an unenjoyable experience!" She kissed him once more. "I have to get going...I'll see you around, Freckle, goodnight!"

"Goodnight, Ivy." He started for home.

Calvin got home. "On time, I see. That's a good boy." His mother said.

"Aye, ma."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter when he got up to his room. He sat on his bed and opened it. It was short. To the point.

'Calvin,

Alex Farley turned up dead in Killarney. Eric Holmes is in the states, I saw him twice before. Be careful.

Erin Go Bragh, Ronan F.'

Calvin didn't get any sleep that night.


	4. Chapter 4: Ivy and the Girls

Chapter 4: Ivy and the Girls

"Ugh, I can't stand that mean old dean!" Helen lamented to Ivy. Ivy was starting to undress behind a screen, getting into a night robe. " 'Oh, you can't try for the band, they don't let girls in!' Half the previous flautists were girls, where's this coming from!?"

"I think he's either a rampant sexist or he wants to keep you in that English class his brother teaches. It conflicts with band, I think."

"Hmph. I know at least 3 gals in band right now. One of 'em's Lorelei Porter."

"Lorelei Porter is in _band_?"

"Sure! Bet she only does it 'cause of that Lightholler fella. The tuba guy, looks like Valentino?"

"Oh, I bet...isn't he a big deal in the band?"

"Only tuba player who can play more than 2 notes a measure. He wants to make it into a true solo instrument."

"Bold, I like it!"

"I figure."

Olivia came back and looked awkwardly at Ivy. "Oh...hi, Ivy."

"Hey, Olivia, you get what you were looking for?"

"I did, yes. Wh-"

"Olivia! I've been waiting to get my hands on you all day!" Helen proclaimed.

"For what?"

"For my Music History book." She said.

"Oh...Oh! I do have that with me, here." She walked to her drawer and unlocked it, handing the book over. "Thanks for reminding me!"

"Not at all, thanks for not losing it, I have a paper due tomorrow and I need to make sure it's all right."

"What's it about?" Ivy asked.

"Romantic era composers. Brahms, Chopin, Wagner, all that."

"Brahms?" Olivia asked. "I thought Brahms was classical?"

"Huh? No, no, Johannes Brahms, 1833-1897? Clearly Romantic era."

"Well, sure, he wrote IN the Romantic era, but clearly his biggest influences were Classical composers…"

"Just because his _influences_ were classical doesn't mean _he_ was!"

"Alright then." The two agreed to disagree. "You hear about Jack Waltrip?"

"What about him?"

"Apparently...he was caught in bed with another person from the football team."

Olivia gasped. "He's...he's a homosexual?"

Ivy shrugged. "Ah, c'mon, you probably know at least 5 or 6. I can confirm I do."

Helen looked over. "Well, I guess we know how you feel about them...how about you, Olivia?"

"I dunno, I'm just a little shocked is all. I guess it's fine, I mean...it isn't hurting anyone."

"That's exactly what I told Ruthie Childs, but she's insistent on hating him for it!"

"Seems a little childish to me."

"I think she just wanted to neck with him." Olivia quipped.

Ivy got up and arranged some things on her night stand. "Speaking of Necking, girls, I spent all day with Calvin." She winked.

"What, the reluctant romeo who you've been trying to win over for months, even after a few kisses?" Helen crossed her arms and smirked. "About time. How was it?"

"It was great! He's such a sweetheart. He sings well, too."

"You heard him sing?" Helen asked.

"Well, he started humming I dream of Jeannie, and I couldn't resist singing along. And out of nowhere, he just starts like some sort of Caruso!"

"He sounds lovely," said Olivia, "But does he have to kiss you _that_ way in front of the door?"

Helen stifled a chuckle. "I'm...sorry?"

Ivy sighed and rolled her eyes. "He _Never_ kisses me like that without some prodding, that was my fault. I like getting those, they're my weakness!"

"I bet you were being so dramatic, too, huh?" Helen stood up and posed dramatically, holding her hand up to her forehead.

"Oh, Calvin, my dearest, how I loathe that we must part! Leave me with one more kiss, my love, so that if I'm robbed away in the night I shall have the taste of your lips as a lasting token!" Olivia laughed and started, lowering her voice as much as she could.

"Ivy, my sweetheart, I would die for the opportunity to shower you with such loving kisses, but alas, I am needed elsewhere! Farewell, my love!" Ivy laughed too, playfully batting at them. "It was nothing like that! But I do appreciate the effort!" The room gradually calmed down, and a few more moments passed. The mood started to change.

Ivy looked out the window of their room and sighed. "I wish there could be a little...more for us here, y'know?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean in Europe I might at least be allowed to get a mathematics degree as opposed to a teaching degree that I'd probably end up not being able to use soon as I got married." She said. Helen nodded.

"Amen to that, I just want them to let me study with the composer here! Fanny Mendelssohn was a woman, she's got a whole 3 pages in the book! And they won't let me see him! HE even wants to see me, but apparently the university could get him in trouble for it and the music faculty could and _would_ boot him."

"Why not see him in secret?" Olivia said.

"And risk someone thinking I'm seeing him for an affair?"

"Oh, relax, he's the youngest resident composer in university history, no one would think anything of it!" Olivia said.

Helen crossed her arms. "I hope he doesn't want to see me just because he thinks I'm cute." She rolled her eyes. "That would be the king of all disappointments, believe me."

"Pretty sure he's married." Olivia said. "My friend, Richard, told me he was wearing a wedding ring."

"I dunno, hasn't stopped men before. But he does come across as the kind of guy who'd be completely devoted. Maybe this is a safe bet."

Olivia looked over at Ivy. "What do you think?"

"Hmm? Oh, the composer thing? Yeah, you should just start seeing him! If the university won't let you do it on the level you may as well go behind their back. It's what I would do."

Helen nodded. "Alright, it's settled. I'll talk to him tomorrow morning. I see him at church, he plays organ."

"Oooo, organ? All the greats played organ...right?" Ivy giggled. "You two and your music, I barely know what either of you are saying half the time!"

"I feel that way with you and math. It's scary how big some of those problems get!"

"I'm still working on one right now, been at it for days." She said. She pulled out a long, stapled together sheet of graph paper. "This must be the hardest math I'll ever see in my life."

"What is it?" Helen asked. Ivy responded in a dramatic, dark, faux-spooky voice.

"Feast your eyes upon the darkest art of mathematics...Vieta jumping! Muahahaha!"

"What...is it?" Olivia asked, looking curious.

"Oh! Well, essentially, it's a proof technique. It proves if solutions are true."

"How's it work?"

"It's...long. Really long." She showed off a paper she'd picked up from the library. "Exorbitantly long." She said. "We start by-"

Olivia shook her head. "I dunno about abstract math at this hour."

"Oh, alright...you girls wanna talk about anything else?"

Helen shook her head, stretching. "I've been up all day," she said. "I'm gonna try and get some sleep. Ivy, you going to any parties tonight?"

"No, I've been walking all day too. I think I'm turning in early this evening."

Olivia nodded. "So we're all in agreement?" She turned off the lights and stretched.

"Goodnight, girls."

"Goodnight."


	5. Chapter 5: Connections

Chapter 5: Connections

Calvin ran inside of the small place he'd rented with Alex and Ronan. He huffed. He looked at his paws. _Blood_. He was hyperventilating and he was nervous. Alex rushed in. Calvin, what was that!?"

"I….I struck the detective." He said. "I dunno why, he grabbed me, I struck." He wiped his hand. Ronan came in soon after. "Christ above, Cal, ye didn't have to draw blood!"

"I couldn't stop myself, Ronan, I tried but I couldn't!" Calvin was sobbing now. "That's all I know, Ronan, he grabbed, I scratched." He held his head in his hands. "I never wanted to hurt the fella, I just wanted him off!"

"It's fine, Cal. It's fine. You're okay. It was self defense, we all saw that."

Ronan moved to hug Calvin...he noticed, then, Alex, laying in a pool of blood. He heard a harsh North English accent. "It'll be just fine, Mister McMurray…" He felt a knife go into his back. He gasped and looked out and saw the face of

"ERIC! NO!"

He huffed.

 _Just a dream._

Calvin shook and sighed, sitting up in bed. He needed air. He rushed to the door and shoved it open, leaning out. He looked at the clock in his room. 2 AM. He shook his head. He laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. He got a glass of water, and still couldn't sleep. He wasn't sure where that dream came from. He was scared.

He tried hard to think about happy things. Ivy's eyes when he sang, the way she looked in the dim twilight out on the small lake, the beauty of County Cork in the summertime, starlit night skies. None of it could get him to sleep, but it at least helped him to forget what woke him up. He heard something move outside the window. He closed it and looked out. Just some squirrel. He laid in bed and closed his eyes. He tried to sleep….but he simply laid there until 7 AM, when he groggily stretched and got dressed, wearing a very typical sweater vest/shirt and slacks ensemble, and waiting for someone to pick him up for work.

"Calvin." Calvin's mother was sitting on the couch.

"Morning, Ma."

"Calvin, what were you screamin' about up there?"

"Nothin', Ma, just a dream."

"Hmm….what'd y'do yesterday?"

"Spent the day with Ivy, why?"

"Hmm." She got up and headed over to Calvin. "Glad yer at least getting back at a decent hour."

"Thanks, Ma."

Their conversations were growing shorter and shorter these days, and neither was sure why. Eventually, Rocky pulled up in the truck. He waved and got in.

"Good morning, sunshine! You look like you slept like a log!"

"Morning Rocky."

"Aww, what's gotcha in the dumps? You and the missus have a scuffle?"

"We're not married Rocky." He said. "I just...had a rough night. Bad dream."

"Oh. I have plenty of those!"

They got into the Daisy. He stayed in the lobby while Rocky went upstairs. He heard some talking through the thin walls, and heard Rocky coming down the old creaky steps. He looked over. "We fetching from the Healy's today?"

"Sure are!" The Healy's were their new supplier; they hid in the swamp, and didn't work with the Marigolds because of a shouting match between one of them and Asa. Calvin saw this as nothing more than routine. He piled into the truck.

"Rocky?"

"Yes, Freckle?" Asked Rocky.  
"Could I ask you a question? A bit of a personal one?"

"Listen, pal, if you're looking for relationship advice I lost to a guy who's parents apparently couldn't say their R's, so-"

"It's not-" he sighed, "Do you think it's okay to hide something from people if it means you might get hurt and they won't?"

"Can you run that by me one more time?" Rocky sighed and looked over. "I have no idea what you just said."

Calvin nodded. "It's just that I don't want to talk about what happened a while ago. In Ireland?" He said, reluctantly. "I wanna know if you think talking about it would hurt anyone?" Really? He'd racked up quite a kill list at this point, and he was afraid of talking about _that?_

"Oh, is this the thing? In Ireland? That you did?" Rocky kept his eyes on the road.

"Mitzi found out about it somehow. She doesn't know exactly what it was, does she?" Calvin asked They got to the Healy's place. Rocky shook his head. "Of course not, old friend! And I certainly wasn't coerced into mentioning a tiny bit of it at all! Nope!"

"What did you say?"

"I told her some guy attacked you and then I got distracted."

"Distracted? By what?" Calvin asked, getting out of the truck.

"Well, the clock in there's awful loud, so I sort of phased out listening to it and then just told her you decided to come back and nothing else happened."

"Did she believe you?" Calvin asked. Before he could get an answer, a large, round farmer wearing a straw hat and work clothes opened the door. "Boys! C'mere, gotta help me load the stuff, my back ain't what it used to be." Rocky smiled. "Good morning, my fair Healy! And what is it you have for us today?" Healy let the two in. "Same as usual, whiskey, brandy...we were gonna give you a case of some beer we tried but someone seems to have stolen it."

"Stolen it? As in, took without asking or even leaving a note?" Rocky asked.

"That's what that word means." Healy said.

"Any idea who did it?" Rocky asked. He nudged Healy. "I may want to have a few words with someone bleeding off our product."

Calvin just kept loading, looking around. His eyes were darting wildly. Ever since he read that note, he was a little more cautious. As far as he knew he could be anywhere. Rocky came out of the house with a few crates. "Don't worry, Mr. Healy, we'll find your man!" Rocky shook his hand, slipped him some cash, and got back in the truck. The truck was loaded with liquor, as well as grains and some corn, to try and mask it incase they got pulled over or something similar happened. Rocky looked over. "I was distracted by a bird, by the way. In the window." He said. "It was huge! Must've been at least 12 pounds, or however you rate the size of a bird."

"Wouldn't you just use pounds?" Calvin asked.

The two of them got back to the daisy, and Mitzi was waiting for them at the door. "Rocky, pull the truck around to where we offload. Someone will be waiting for you. Calvin...come inside."

Calvin decided it was best if he just went in. he looked around. "Is there something you wanted to ask me about?" When they got to the office, Mitzi sat behind the desk.

"Your friend Ronan came back today. He left you this note." He opened it. An address. "I suppose he wants to meet."

"Calvin." She looked at him with a face of concern. "I wanna know what happened in Ireland." Mitzi said. "You didn't get tied up with some sort of criminals over there?"

"Other than being anti-treaty? No. Didn't even do any field stuff, just wrote." Mitzi sighed and looked up. "Calvin." She walked out from behind the desk and stood in front of him. "Ronan seems hell bent on getting you these in a timely fashion. Are you being chased?"

"It's nothing I can't deal wi-"

"Are you being _chased_ , yes or no?" She asked.

"Yes." Calvin said. Mitzi rolled her eyes. "Calvin, we can't have you working if you're being chased." Calvin drooped his chair. "You're...firing me?"

"Not firing. Just...it's temporary. You're going to take care of it, yes? You and Ronan?"

"Yes." He said. He looked down. "I'm...sorry for hiding all this from you." He added. "Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"

"Well, just get this dealt with. And make sure whoever it is doesn't get you, I need someone who shoots like you." She said. "Now go see this man. He wants you as soon as he can get you." Calvin nodded and walked out the door, leaving Mitzi alone. She sighed and looked at a picture of Atlas on her desk. "Hard times might fall again if we don't have the same firepower, sweetie." She touched the picture to her lips.

"Keep him safe for me, will you?"


	6. Chapter 6: Plans

Chapter 6: Plans

Calvin found himself in a crummy apartment, with old looking walls, and extremely sparse furniture. He, himself, was sitting in a wicker chair that he had moved over to the coffee table, while his friend, Ronan, sat across from him. The two had nothing to drink. The room was silent for a while. Ronan spoke.

"Sorry to have to see you again like this, it's been rough here."

"It's fine. How's Alice?"

"Alice is fine these days, she works a a telephone operator now. We only see each other at night." Alice was Ronan's wife...he'd clearly married young. "How about you, anyone? You never even went on dates back home."

"There's a girl named Ivy." Calvin said. "We've been full on for a few days but it had been waiting for months."

"Glad to see you finally got around to at least seein' someone. That's why you could never finish yer book. Writing about love and never really going through it has to be nigh impossible, eh?"

"I suppose…" The silence fell as the realization that they were being hunted actively set back in. Ronan looked up. "Where are you living now?" He was trying to keep the small talk going as long as he could.

"With ma."

"Nina? How's she?"

"She's fine. We don't talk as much as she used to."

"Ah." There was more silence. Calvin spoke. "Eric Holmes is in the US?"

"Saw him th'other day, he didn't recognize me."

"Do you think he's still looking?"

"He's the one who set up Alex's death, so I'd assume so." He said. He sighed. "Why's he after _us_ , of all people? He could've framed anyone else and he picks a buncha kids."

"Ye can't just frame anyone, it's gotta be likely." Calvin said. "We were in the area, a lot of the men who did violent things were young, it was a cop who got killed, they wanted a murderer fast."

Ronan pinched the bridge of his nose. "For christ's sake, Calvin, the men who did it were a bunch of rogues who wanted to kill him fer no reason, we wanted actual pea-"

"I KNOW what we wanted, Ronan! Eric Holmes sure as hell doesn't!" Calvin lashed out, frustrated. "What's more likely, a cop gets killed because of bad luck? Because he's on the wrong bleedin' side of town? Or is it more likely that a bunch of radical Irish Republicans killed him because he worked for the crown?"

Ronan ran a hand through his hair, laying back on the chair and looking to the ceiling. "Calvin...we're done for. We can't just make him disappear."

"...I know someone who could. And I bet he'd be willing to help, too."

"What, help make him disappear?"

"I work for a speakeasy, Ronan. We do one of those tricks every other Thursday. Only problem is he's for a different outfit." He said, standing up. He looked over. "I might know someone who could help if he says no."

Ronan stood up as well. "We need to find him and lure him into some sort of trap, Calvin. He knows exactly who we are."

"Aye. But I might know a way at him." He said. "Ronan, I'll have to get going if I'm gonna catch the man I need to talk to." He said. He hugged Ronan tight. "...we'll be safe. Promise you." Ronan hugged him back and sighed. "I hope so, Calvin...I hope so."

On his way out the door, Ronan looked over. "Oi, Calvin, not that you'd want it, but if y'ever want a discount on Bevo, I'm yer man. They gave me a card." He winked. "We'll have to catch up again sometime...happier, maybe?"

"Maybe. As soon as this gets sorted out."

"And you want me to help you find him and lure him in?" Mordecai looked up from under his pince-nez glasses, sitting behind his desk.

"Yes." Calvin said. He looked nervous, mostly because of the presence of Mordecai. Mordecai could be wearing a frilly pink dress and he'd still look like some sort of murderous demon hunting for blood.

"What reason would I have to help you? Someone who works for my rival?"

Calvin thought a moment, but came up empty handed. Mordecai looked at his newspaper.

"What even makes me certain that you didn't actually kill this man, Calvin?"

"I swear on god, Mordecai, I di-"

"I don't care for swearing to religion, especially in this case."

Calvin looked down in his chair. "I...should get going, then."

"Wait." Mordecai looked up and steepled his fingers, drumming them on each other as he looked on. "Tell me everything that happened."

"Everything?"

"Absolutely everything."

Ronan, Alex, and Calvin walked back from class one day. Alex looked over at Cal. "Calvin," he started, "Didye see that flyer about the writing contest?" He asked. "I think yer a sure winner if you try fer it?"

"Ah, I dunno, it seems like it's supposed to be poems." He said. "I'm not too great at those. More a prose and essays man myself."

Ronan giggled. "Too good fer poems, now, eh?" He nudged Calvin. "Writes half a book and a buncha short stories and he's too good to write a poem!"

The three laughed. "It's not that, I just haven't got a thing to write about, far's poems are concerned." Alex rolled his eyes. "What, no girls? Haven't happened to see a pretty lookin' sunset or a nice tree of late?"

"In't that what all the good ones are about? That n' death. And ye ain't dyed yet, lest ye got something t'tell us." Calvin shook his head and smiled. "Just harder to do poems than prose. I could write miles about a pretty tree, but ask me to put it in verse and I'm hopeless."

The trio carried on like that for a while, until they were a tad further from Campus. Alex looked to Calvin.

"Cal, didye hear about that constable the other night?"

"What about him?"

"He was in the wrong side of town," Ronan interrupted, "He got killed by some men."

"Oh, that's a shame." Calvin put his hands in his pockets. "Who kills a policeman this far south?"

"Well, he wasn't just a policeman, I think." Said Alex. "He was English."

"English? Really now?"

"Aye." Alex said. This got Calvin nervous. He'd written a lot about how he felt on the subject of independence and the 'free state'. He knew that even though he wasn't involved, he could be at least given more attention than he might want.

"That's not good. How long until you think they'll peg it on some poor student?"

"I give 'em a day, the detective said they wanted to find someone as fast as possible."

"You there!" The three of them turned around and saw a cat with ice white fur and striking, harsh blue eyes. His accent was Northern English. "What're you talking on?"

"That murder last night." Ronan said. "It's awful what happened t'the man, aye?

The man got closer. "...indeed...none of you would know a thing about it, would you?"

"No, why do you a-"

"My, is that Calvin McMurray? As in, 'Ireland is for all who call it home, but not for those who call it their subject' Calvin McMurray?"

Calvin looked nervous. "...Aye, sir, that's me."

"Hmm. Funny, the man was English."

"I'm aware, sir, my friend here told me."

"You wouldn't happen to know anything about the policeman? Or the side of town he was on?' The cat got extremely close now, able to breath on Calvin's whiskers.

"Sir, I didn't do a thing, I'd appreciate it if you left me alone."

"I bet you would, wouldn't you?" Calvin felt his arm get grabbed. His eyes went wide, and he started to see red. "OFFA ME YE BIG BRUTE!" He scratched. Hard and deep, striking the man's face. Ronan and Alex held him back, and fought to keep him there. "Run! Run, ye idiot!" Calvin shook and heaved in air, starting to cool down. "I...what've I done…" He looked at his hand and saw blood and bits of white fur. And he ran to the hills.

"...and after that I just decided I had to leave." He said. "I never got arrested or anything and he lost his job for going too far with accusations after they looked into it."

"I should hope so." Mordecai nodded. "You must think they're all evil, hmm? The English?"

"Of course not." Calvin said. "Why would I peg all of them with one man's problem? It's not them, it's just being a subject I hate, not the English."

"Well, that's quite noble of you, Calvin." He sighed and stood up. Calvin looked down, noting the sarcasm in his voice. "You'd rather I hated all of them?" Calvin asked, looking back at him. Mordecai shook his head. "Of course not. Extremism is a dangerous seed, boy. Remember that." Calvin nodded and looked on as he closed one of the books on his desk. "Calvin, I don't like working for Asa. Do you know why?'

Calvin had no clue. He just sat there in silence and shook his head. Mordecai continued. "Because half the work I do is frivolous killing for the sake of frivolous killing. 'Oh, this man looks like my Ex's brother, better go get rid of him', 'I don't want his liquor anymore so instead of letting him sell elsewhere I'll just kill him', etcetera." He stood up and walked around his desk, standing in front of Calvin. "I hate it because I kill strictly because Asa doesn't like someone, _not_ because he needs it done. When I worked for Atlas, he sent me on excursions that were extremely necessary; 'this man stole liquor from a supplier', or 'this man keeps making Ivy extremely uncomfortable'. Things with weight." He sat on his desk. "Your issue has weight."

"So you'll help me?"

Mordecai silently nodded. "What does Mister Holmes like?"


	7. Chapter 7: Speak Of The Devil

Chapter 7: Speak Of The Devil

Apparently, even a well to do speakeasy can be short staffed. At least, that's what Mitzi and Zib were finding out now, as they hauled crates of whiskey into the halls of the Daisy. Zib looked around. "It's nice to play for actual crowds again...it got kind of sad to look out and see more people who were paid to be there than who were _paying_ to be there."

"I'll say," Mitzi added, "It's just nice to know that we'll be able to actually afford rent and such." She huffed as she picked up a crate. "Agh...these are heavy, aren't they?" She carried it and put it down. "Phew...almost like the old days, y'know?" She sat on one. "Making money, having more wealth than we know what to do with,"

"You married to a rich man?"

Mitzi stopped and crossed her legs. "Who, Wick? We're not married."

"You're close, right?"

"...sort of."

Zib shrugged and walked over to her, smirking gently. "Well, you and Wick have a fight or something?"

"The other night I just...thought a bit, is all." Zib got a few more crates and carried them, with Mitzi walking alongside him, only hauling one. "About me and you and Wick." Zib giggled. "Look, whether I like it or not, I'm out of the picture now. I had plenty of girls and I'll probably have plenty more." He added. "I'm not one to linger on things I can't have."

"What if I am?" She asked. "I mean, what if I am and don't want to be?"

"Mitzi." He put down the crate and ran a hand through Mitzi's hair, and she leaned into it. "I can understand how you must feel. But believe me, I'm certain you love Wick. I mean...you've seen the both of you together, right?'

"I guess."

"You two are practically made for each other. He's rich...you're also starting to become rich...I'm sure there's other similarities you have?"

Mitzi rolled her eyes. "It's not all about money, never was. I mean, that was a big part, but-"

"It was a big part of why we split off right?" Mitzi stopped in her tracks.

"Absolutely not. You know why, it just...wasn't working." She said. "I'm unsure of who I wanna be with, not polygamous, like you apparently thought I was." Zib stretched and sighed. "Ah, well. Listen, I'm sorry I brought it up."

"It's fine, I just...I also still remember the rumors about Atlas. I get weary of hearing that I'm only in it for the money." She said. Zib hung his head. "So...any more crates?" Mitzi patted his arm and smiled. "Nope, should be it...you go get ready, we open in a few hours." She said. She walked back upstairs and found Calvin, sitting there. "Mitzi? I wanted to talk to you."

"Well, no, I'm afraid I've never heard of a...what was it? Eric Holmes?"

"You're sure?" Calvin said. "I just need some sort of information on him." He sighed and looked down, fidgeting with his cap. "He's the one chasing me." Mitzi shook her head. "No, Calvin, I really haven't...I mean, I may have heard the name, but-" There was a knock on the door. "Come in." In walked Wick, hanging his top hat and smiling warmly. "Mitzi. Are you alright?" Mitzi nodded and sighed. "I am, yes…"

"How's the boy here?" He patted Cal's shoulder. Calvin looked up. "I'm fine. I'm curious, do you know a man named Eric Holmes?"

"Eric Holmes?" Calvin knew it was a longshot, but be needed something, anything, to go off of. A hat, a favorite coat, a place he'd been seen. He only expected another 'no, never heard of him', but he got something he never expected.

"I...think I played golf with an Eric Holmes."

"Golf?" Calvin and Mitzi asked at the same time. Wick sat down. "Yes, golf. I was playing with Edmund the other day, he introduced me to someone he met named Eric. Striking man, this Eric! Big scar on his left cheek. White fur, thick thick accent. I think scottish?"

"North English." Said Calvin. Calvin sighed. "...what was he doing playing golf?"

"Oh, well he says he makes yachts. At least, he says he works for a yacht maker. He also said he used to be a police detective but was laid off for some reason."

"Fired. Manufactured evidence." Calvin said.

"How do you know so much about this man, Calvin?"

"He's trying to kill him for a crime he didn't commit, Wick." Mitzi said. Wick furrowed a brow. "Really now?" He asked. Mitzi nodded in response. "It's bad enough that apparently an old friend of ours decided to help him. But he needs information."

"I just remember him saying he works for a yacht making company based on the river. Quilton Searles, I believe."

"Yacht making? So he must have some sort of money, right? Maybe he's an executive?"

"Well," said Wick, "I heard him talking about designing. He must have some sort of background." Mitzi looked up. "Northern England? They make boats up there right?"

"I think so." Calvin said. So, they knew who he was, where he was, and what he was doing.

"So Quilton Searles. Anything he likes?"

"He drinks. He likes beer."

"Beer?"

"Beer? All of it?" Rocky asked. "Stolen!?" Mr. Healy nodded. "Afraid so! Not sure where it went." The healys didn't make beer. They made stronger stuff, frankly. But they were experimenting with beer, and the Daisy would've been the first client to receive it! Had it not been for a thief who came in the night and took it from them. Tat was indeed quite a shame. In any case, they'd employed Rocky to find it. "So, we know it's ALL gone...3 barrels worth. Do we have any idea what the man looked like?"

"Well, he had white fur, but he looked extremely disheveled from what my son says. My son saw him get into a large car and ran off."

"Did the car say anything on it?"

"Well, I can tell you that either that man is a grocer or he stole the cart."

"Interesting...any other distinguishing marks?" Rocky asked.

"Yes, his tail...it had a crinkle in it." Rocky snapped his fingers. "I know just who it was! I'll be back in a day or so."

"Alright then." Mr. Healy closed the door, and Rocky drove quickly. He was headed for Sleazytown.


	8. Chapter 8: Confession

Chapter 8: Confession

Calvin was waiting outside of the dorms, getting funny looks from some girls and sly glances from others. He heard the door creak open, and saw Ivy standing in it. "Freckle! C'mon in!" Calvin looked nervous, as if he had something heavy on his mind. He did. He had to tell Ivy about the whole 'being chased' thing, which would probably prove to be somewhat important later on. However, he'd forgotten to mention it on the phone, and...well, it wouldn't happen that way.

"How're you, sweetie?' Ivy looked up and smiled brightly.

"Fine, you?" Calvin put a smile on, hoping she wouldn't see through it.

"Oh, I'm fine. But today was _awful!_ " She said, pointing to a book. "English comp. I can barely write an essay to save me life! I can do non-linear algebra but not write about a book."

"Which book?" He asked.

"Ulysses." She replied.

"Ulysses? James Joyce?" He patted her back, smiling. "Y'know, I wrote plenty of essays and I still had a problem with that one." Ivy winked. "You'll have to help me with one sometime, won't you?" She opened her door, and there were the two others, listening to some older records. "Oh, hello, Ivy. Who's that?" Helen asked.

"Calvin!" Olivia announced, smirking. "Gonna give her any lush, cinematic kisses this time?" Calvin blushed. "I, uh...well, heh, y'see, I-"

"Calvin this is Helen!" Ivy said quickly, pushing the two of them closer. Helen shook his hand. "How do you do?" Calvin nodded. "I've been well. You?"

"I've been alright." Ivy spoke, standing next to Helen. "Helen's majoring in 'musical copying'. It's only because they won't let her be a composition major," She whispered jokingly, "but she's seeing the school's composer, don't tell anyone!" Helen laughed. "It's true, the composer here actually wants me to learn with him but the director of the school of music is a little...closed minded."

Olivia sighed. "They all are, do you know how long it took me to actually get into a painting class?" Olivia walked over and shook Calvin's hand. Calvin was typically silent when meeting new people, and this didn't seem like an exception. Olivia introduced herself. "I'm Olivia, I'm a liberal arts major. Just trying to do painting, though, really." Calvin nodded. "Nice to meet on less awkward terms."

Olivia chuckled and nodded, batting his arm. "It is a little less awkward this time, isn't it?"

"So, Calvin, what do you do?"

"I work at a restaurant in town...but I think I'll try my hand at writing again."

"You wrote?"

Calvin nodded. "I spent a year and some change at a college in Cork, in Ireland."

"Ireland? Ivy didn't tell us you went to Ireland."

"I did, yes. Ma's Irish."

Helen gasped. "So _that's_ where the accent's from!" Calvin had been using his rich brogue much more commonly now. Now that the secret was out, it didn't make sense to just keep himself from it. Ivy winked. "It's cute, isn't it?"

Olivia nodded. "It's very cute, indeed. Where in Ireland is cork?'

"Southwest, why?" Olivia snapped her fingers. "Ivy, remember that foreign exchange student in our history class last year? He was from central Ireland or something, right?"

Ivy thought a moment. "He...was, yeah! You ever been to Kilkenny?"

"I visited once but I wouldn't say I know anyone there." He said. He sat on Ivy's bed. Calvin looked around. "So," Helen asked, "Can he dance yet?"

"Kinda, yeah! He still holds on for dear life." Ivy sat next to him. "Well, not that I _mind_ , of course." Calvin looked down. "I'm getting better."

"Can you do any of that tappy stuff they do over there?"

"No. Takes people years to learn to do that." He said. "I know a few songs, though, bu-"

Helen nodded. "Ivy said you could sing, yeah!" Olivia turned off the record player, sitting in a chair. "Could you?" Calvin shook his head and drooped his ears shyly. "I...wouldn't know what to sing."

"Sheik of Araby? Do you know that one?" Ivy asked.

"I Wish There Was a Wireless to Heaven?"

"All Alone?"

Calvin laughed and sighed. "I dunno if I really want to sing right now." Helen nodded. "I can see why, let's lay off him." She patted Olivia's shoulder. Calvin leaned back in his chair. "Are any of you seeing anyone?" There was a bit of hesitation before Olivia and Helen shook their heads. "Nope. No one." Ivy shrugged. "They're not popular with boys I guess." It was an obvious euphemism that didn't go over Calvin's head, but he just nodded and played along. "I see." Helen spoke. "So, to what do we owe the pleasure of having you here?" Calvin looked at Ivy. "Well, actually, I needed to tell Ivy something privately." He perked his ears. "That is, if it's okay with you all?"

Helen winked. "Sure thing...just don't get her too riled up or we won't hear the end of it."

"Helen!" Ivy scolded. "I'm sure what he has to say is very important!" Helen nodded and stood up, walking with Olivia. "Well, alright...we'll be outside for a moment. The two of them left.

"So, Freckle, what's eating you?" Calvin looked down nervously. "...when I was in Ireland I was falsely accused of murder." Ivy furrowed a brow. "...Calvin," She said, "even if it wasn't _false_ accusation I still love you now, and you've done plenty more murder since th-"

"The man who accused me is in the city and trying to kill me."

Ivy gasped. "Trying to kill you?" She subconsciously held onto him a little tighter. "But it was false, wasn't it? Were you framed, or-"

"I put a big scar on his cheek and he lost his job because of the case, Ivy, he wants revenge." Ivy thought a moment and looked down. "Oh." She said, sounding almost defeated. She sighed and looked up at him. "How do you know you'll be safe?"

"I don't. We're gonna try and catch him, me and a friend of mine."

"Calvin." She nestled into him gently. "I'm just nervous about you going out and doing all this."

"It'll be just like any other job for the Daisy, Ivy, I promise." Ivy smiled gently up at him. "Promise?"

"On Ma's grave." He kissed her deeply, holding her as tight as he could manage to. He was glad to feel her there. In a world where he was being hunted, she made him feel at least a little safer. He kissed her forehead. "Ivy?'

"Freckle?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

The two girls came back in after a while. "Are you two done in the-" Helen spotted the two of them curled up together, tight as could be. "Goodness, you two are cuddly." Ivy stuck her tongue out at the two. "You're just jealous because mine's the cutest!" She pecked Cal's forehead. "Isn't that right, freckle sweetie?"

Olivia laughed. "Helen, we'd better go, I have some work to catch up on anyhow." The two of them popped out after getting a few books. Calvin looked over at Ivy. "Ivy...I might need to get going t-"

"Nope. You're staying right here with me for now."

Calvin nodded and kissed her nose. "Whatever you say."


	9. Chapter 9: Thief!

Chapter 9: Thief!

Rocky was walking through the wrong side of town at night. He was well prepared to fight off anyone he needed to, but he was hopeful that the only man he was worried about would be so drunk that he couldn't stand. In fact, he wasn't _that_ inebriated...but he was unusually close. Rocky stepped towards the man he knew to be the thief.

"Hhey, you...guy...don...don' get so clooze...ta meeee" Virgil swung an arm, clearly a little more plastered than he typically was.

"Howdy there, Virgil!" Rocky slammed Virgil up against a wall to let him know that A.) he'd lost and B.) he was being serious. "Word on the street is you stole some hooch. Got any idea on the whereabouts of said hooch?"

"I's...you...wait, you shteal...hoosh…" Virgil responded.

"No, I buy the hooch, and send it somewhere else. I'm more of a storefront for a wholesaler of illegal goods! You're more of...well, a thief. Just a plain old thief."

"Oh...the barrels? Yikesh whatzzz...in those?"

"Beer! Stolen beer. That YOU stole. Take me to it."

"I...never stole nothin'...occifer."

"You mean Officer, and you really mean ROCKY."

"I's...yer Rocky? No, Rocky doeshn't...have a head...gash...kinda...jooooob?"

Rocky just felt a little frustrated at this point, and slapped Virgil. He'd thought it would do something but Virgil just sort of stayed still. "Virgil? Did you even feel that? You're so far gone, I wonder if you're able to feel anyth-"

"Ow!" The delayed reaction gave him all the answer he needed.

"What are you even drinking, anyhow? Must be a good time!"

"Itsh...the beer I shtoleIMEANDIDN'Tsteal…"

Rocky laughed. "Okay, bronco, just take me to the goods and I'll unhand you! There were 3 of them, remember? Barrel shaped?" Rocky outlined a barrel with his hands. "They look like that, remember?"

Virgil nodded and put on a stupid grin. "I...only have haffa one left…"

"Virgil, you DRANK 2 and a half barrels of beer in one night!?" Rocky was stunned.

"No, I...sold it...and lost th'money at the tracks today...so I got sad and stole some back…" Rocky was now at least making headway. He remembered 3 barrels, and he even stole one of them twice over. He was clearly at least learning, that's for sure. "Can you take me to this half of a barrel?"

"Yer not..turnin me over...are ya?"

"For stealing something that's illegal to make anyhow? Hardly. Just take me to it."

"Shore." He took him back to a 1 room apartment, with a few cabinets, a bed, and a barrel. Must've been stolen, as it was the only thing that wasn't caked in dust in the whole room. "So, uh...you sold it?"

"Yep...marigold...guy." Virgil laid on the bed. "What'd this 'marigold guy' look like? Did he happen to have pince nez glasses and an evil glare? Black fur?"

"The...glare? Yeah, the glare. No *hic* glasses...white fur, big red streak across…*hic* his face." Rocky's expression suddenly got more serious. "You said he was a marigold guy?"

"Said he liked th'marigold, he's...not shtaff."

"I see." He patted Virgil's head. "Well, the good news is you can keep the booze."

"Great newzz!"

"And you've helped me to locate someone. Now sleep before you get arrested."

Rocky left without another word, trying to get back to the Daisy before the real dangerous people got out. He managed to get back by around 8 in the evening. He knocked on Mitzi's office door. "Miss Mitzi! I have some lovely news!" He almost sang, his cooing voice starting at the door and ending in the chair as he sat in it. "Oh, do you now, Rocky? What is it?" Mitzi asked.

"I found out who got the Healy's beer _and_ where Eric Holmes likes to hang out."

"What? Where does he go?"

"Marigold. He wanted some different beer, Virgil needed some money, he got in with him somehow."

"How did Eric Holmes get tied up with Virgil?"

"Beats me, must've been at the race track, Virgil likes to lose every cent of his money there from time to time."

"Hmm. We'd better let Mordecai know-"

"Mordecai? You mean to tell me Count Hellacula's working on this one?"

"Under Asa's nose, too. He must want to help Calvin out. Either that or he wants to rub it in Asa's face that he works for who he wants…"

"I see! Letting him know just _why_ people fear the Marigold's 'backroom staff', eh?" Rocky grinned and proudly put his legs up on the arm of the chair. "So, we're calling Mordecai? We still know how to reach him?"

"Of course." Mitzi picked up the phone.

Meanwhile, Calvin had just come home from another evening with Ivy. he wasn't up to dance tonight. He came home and looked around. No one there. "Ma?" He called in the living room. "Ma?" He shouted down to the cellar. Nothing...save for a note on the counter.

'Calvin,

Your uncle James in Boston sent for me to help clean out his father's estate. You'll probably be on your own for a few weeks. You're grown, it won't be an issue. Ronan from Ireland came today, he says he wants to speak to you. -Nina'

Well, that was a predicament. He was more than capable of taking care of himself. He might even have Ivy over a while; share a house for a few days, see what it's like. He smiled at the thought. But Ronan did want to see him, and he figured that would be important. He rushed over to his side of town, walking swiftly and ending up right at his apartment door. He knocked on the door. "Ronan? Ronan, it's Cal!" He knocked a bit more, fearing the worst...Eric didn't get to him, did he?

He heard the door open and was pulled inside. "SHH!" Ronan said quickly and sternly. "Quiet...the walls are thin here, Cal." Calvin nodded. "What happened?" Ronan handed him a note, written quickly and scribbled down.

'Ronan-

You and your wife are next. EH'

Calvin gagged. Two notes already, and none of them good. He shook his head. "Ronan…" He sighed. "Where's Alice?"

"She left on the train this morning. She went to Chicago, she has a friend up there."

"I see...ma left on a train for my aunt this morning."

"Has to be unrelated, he doesn't even know you've got a mother."

"I wasn't saying it was related, it's just...strange."

"Calvin." Ronan put a hand on his shoulder. "Are you any closer to getting rid of him?" Calvin nodded. "We're getting the-"

"My wife's In bleedin' Chicago, Cal! I'm gettin' death threats and I swear I see the man everywhere now!" He sighed and collapsed onto the wall. "I just...get rid of him soon."

Calvin nodded and picked Ronan up. "C'mere." He hugged Ronan tight, patting his back and sighing. "You'll be fine."

"I better be, Calvin, i just got here." Calvin started out the door. "Ronan?"

"Aye?"

"We might need some help from you at some point. Just be ready."

"Aye." Ronan walked over to the door and shut it behind Calvin. Both were tense. A death threat? How did he know he was even married? Did he know about Calvin's mom? Did he know about _Ivy?_ Calvin sighed and got home, to hear his phone ringing. He picked it up. "Calvin?" It was Mordecai. "I've been waiting nearly a minute and a half. What took you so long?"

"I was seeing Ronan, sorry...what is it?"

"Rocky got some information about Eric Holmes. He frequents the Marigold. I'm going to have a word with him tomorrow night."

"Hurry." Calvin whispered. Mordecai almost audibly recoiled on the other end. "I beg your pardon? Did you tell _me_ to hur-"

"Ronan got a...death threat. Today." Calvin almost shouted, but calmed himself. Mordecai was silent for a moment. "Did it mention his wife?"

"It did." More silence. Mordecai sighed. "I have a commitment tonight. But tomorrow should be safe. Most people don't follow up on those immediately-at least I don't." Mordecai wrote something down. "Goodnight, Calvin."

"Goodnight."

Mordecai hung up. Great. The last thing he needed to deal with was a death threat. But he had his own matters to attend to; Asa had sent him on another mission. He wasn't going to be late.

Calvin sat up for quite some hours, leaning on a window sill and looking out at his yard. He remembered playing out there with Rocky when he was a boy, and writing under the tree that was just starting to bud again. He thought about times when life was much more simple; when his job wasn't so horrifying, when everything he loved wasn't in danger. He tried hard not to think about it, but it's difficult to shake the feeling of doom and dread. Would he make it in time?

He could only hope so.


	10. Chapter 10: Mum's the Word

Chapter 10: Mum's the Word

The Daisy was in full swing, but the Marigold was still the biggest spot in town. Mordecai knew this. Asa did, too. Asa was sitting at the bar, in a wash of bittersweet emotions; just a month and some change prior, he'd owned St. Louis. Now he had to share. Sure, his only competition was a place that predated him by a year or two, but it certainly didn't feel nice. He looked up and saw Mordecai walk into the room, and almost immediately made eyed contact with him. Mordecai walked over to the bar and looked the barman dead in the eye. "Glass of water."

"Water?"

"Water _. Cold._ Please?" He looked over at Asa. "Evening."

"Evening, Mister Heller." Asa said. He smiled gently. "You never seem to come here."

"Meeting someone." Asa leaned back, eyeing suggestively at Mordecai. "Found some other spook who haunts the streets at night? What's her name? Or his? You know I don't mi-"

"I'm meeting him for business." Business? If it was business, his boss ought to know about it! "What sort of business?" Mordecai sighed and looked him dead in the eye. "I'm buying a new car. He sells them. I told him I work here and he wanted to meet me." He said. He looked around the room, scanning for any sign of his man. He found him. "There he is...promised I'd be on time." He said. Asa started to get up. "Why don't I come and meet him?"

"He wants to talk to me and me only. He's a very nervous man."

"A nervous man who sells cars?"

"This is his first time at a real speakeasy. Last one he went to was the Daisy before that angel donor." Asa rolled his eyes. "Ahh, yes. Well, have fun with your, eh...car salesman friend." He winked. "Kiss him once for me, casanova!" Mordecai rolled his eyes as Asa laughed at his own unfunny joke. He walked up to the man calmly.

Eric Holmes was a tall man who dressed finely and stood with perfect posture. He, on this occasion, was wearing a pinstripe suit with a plain black tie and white shirt. He noticed Mordecai walking up to him. "...evening."

"Evening. You're new here, aren't you?"

"Well, only been around town for a few months now. But this is a nice spot...are you that hitman?" Mordecai furrowed a brow. "Beg your pardon?"

"I heard one of the boys in the band the other night talking about a hitman, you seem as frightening as he described." Eric's accent was indeed thick, but Mordecai had heard worse. Mordecai shook his head. He'd had to naturally explain that away once or twice, and he didn't skip a beat. "No, you must be mistaken. I've been told I give off that impression, but I assure you it's just how I'm built."

"Oh. Well, that's honestly a bit of a shame, really. I've been looking for that man." Mordecai spotted a chance. "What for?"

"Well, my last one's still in Ireland."

"You don't sound very Irish."

"Blackpool. I worked in the Irish Free State a while back." He pointed at the scar on his cheek. "I'm looking for the boy who did this. I tracked him here."

Mordecai nodded. "You know, I'm close to the hitman. I could give over any information you wanted." Eric chuckled. "You sure?" Mordecai sipped a bit of his water, his tail swaying lightly, to give off a more calm expression. "Indeed. Would a cop be in a place like this?"

"I suppose not."

"Who were they?" Eric holmes took himself and the stranger who knew the hitman to a corner of the room. "His name is Calvin McMurray. He and his friend Ronan are in the city." Mordecai flittered an ear. "And just why did they scar you?"

"I hit the Calvin boy. He starts goin' nuts and gives me a fresh cut right here. Would've kept going, too. He's a brute, that one. Small, but he'll kill you."

Mordecai wrote all of this down. Taking notes for the hitman would be his excuse, but from the lack of mentioning it seemed that Eric had assumed that as well. "Why did you strike him?"

"He's giving me some jaw. Boy picked a fight with a policeman." Mordecai wrote that down, too. He was sure he knew the true story, that a man got scratched and lost his job because he was irresponsible, but couldn't handle taking responsibility for the consequences. He didn't egg it on, though, as that would just give him away. "Ahh. Well...you mentioned the name Ronan? Do you mean Ronan Flannery?"

"I do. How do you know him?"

"He applied for a job here as an enforcer. It would be a shame if he happened to, oh, I don't know, stumble into the park tomorrow and wait by the bridge over the reservoir around...9 o'clock?" Eric grinned ear to ear. "That would be bad for him, definitely. If only the hitman was there."

"Why do we need the hitman? You have a gun, don't you?"

"How'd you know?" Mordecai smiled. "The way you carry yourself." Eric leaned back in his chair and whistled. "Phew...you're good. You work here?"

"I'm the hitman's apprentice, you could say."

"So you could arrange for him to be there?"

"Of course."

"Perfect. If you don't mind, arrange it for 3 nights from now? I have some other business to attend to for work; I help down at Quilton Searles. The Yacht company?"

"I've heard of them." Mordecai nodded. "Nice to meet you by the way, mister…?"

"Holmes. Eric Holmes." He shook Mordecai's hand.

"Rudy Getler." And with that, the two parted ways.

Meanwhile, Mordecai went back up to his office and phoned Calvin. He waited a while again. If he was going to have to wait for him every time he called, he- "Hello?"

"It's Mordecai. Meet me with Ronan at my office in the Marigold. Room 312." He hung up. Must've been important. He got on a jacket and cap, and headed over to Ronan's place. He picked him up and they walked to the Marigold.

"You think it's very important?" Calvin asked.

"I hope it's just knowledge that it's over n'done with, bein' honest witchye."

"I doubt it's over, but it's gotta be a development."

"He knows how urgent it is, right? That we hurry?"

"I told him last night." Calvin Said. They went to the elevator. "3, please." The elevator man nodded silently. Ronan tipped him with a quarter when they got off. They walked to 312 and knocked on the door, and Mordecai came out of the door and took them both in. The office was outlandishly clean, with very little decoration. His desk was well organized and he had a large shelf of books; maps, histories, things like that. Mordecai looked at them both as they sat down.

"Gentlemen, I had a meeting with Mr. Holmes about an hour ago." Ronan and Calvin tensed up. "What was it about?"

"I managed to arrange a meeting 3 nights from now in the park with him and Ronan. Ronan's looking for a job at the Marigold."

"What!?" Ronan shouted, startling everyone in the room. "Why do I need to be the damned bait!?" Mordecai looked over his glasses. "No shouting."

"Oh, right, easy for you to say! He'll kill me!"

"He _won't_ kill you, Calvin and I will be there as well. Hiding. He wants to meet you at the bridge over the reservoir."

"This is a stupid idea."

Calvin looked over. "How else are we supposed to catch him? We just need t'smoke him out, he'll come, we'll take care of him."

"Calvin, the day I see you do any sort of gunplay is the day I-"

"The boy here does some wonderful tricks, I'm told, when he flies into those rages." Mordecai said. "He's a little too hard to control sometimes but he's useful."

Calvin nodded, looking down. "True."

Ronan put his face in his palm, rubbing his hand down it and looking around the room. "So we're gonna bait him out, and in the nick of time, you'll jump out and get 'im?"

"That's the plan." Ronan thought about this for a good few minutes. He paced, muttering to himself, clearly horrified at the prospect. He'd just said goodbye to his wife the day prior and he didn't want that to be the last time he saw her. He didn't want her to come home from Chicago and find out he'd died. But, then again, this was the only way he could make any sort of difference. If he waited, he could very much die. If he took action, he could possibly live. He sat back down. "I'm in."

Across town, Mitzi May was making a phone call to an old friend. "Hello, Ruby? Yes, it's Mitzi. I'm fine, how're you? Listen, I need to tell you something that's been going on. You know that boy Calvin that Ivy's sweet on? Well, some madman is chasin' him, and I heard from his cousin Rocky that apparently there's death threats flying around. I wanted to warn you, I dunno what'll happen to Ivy. Because I love Ivy like I'd love my own daughter, that's why! I lost her godfather, I'm not losing her, god forbid! Alright. Goodbye Ruby. I'd say call her now, she's probably still up. Goodnight."

The phone rang at Ivy's room in the dorm hall. "Hello?" Olivia picked it up. "Oh. Ivy, it's for you." She handed Ivy the phone.

"Hello? Oh, hi dad! What's the matter? You sound a little stressed. Oh...who said that? Mitzi? Oh...but, I can't just _leave_ him right now, he's in danger! Yes, I know that means I'M in danger. Dad, please? I love him, I wanna be there for him, he's horrified! Ugh, fine. But I won't enjoy it! What do you mean why, because I wanna be there for him right now! He's only being chased! I know it's safer up there...yes, yes...alright...already wired for it...okay. I'm...alright. I'm sorry I yelled. Goodnight dad, see you tomorrow." Ivy hung on the phone, rubbing her eyes and laying back on her bed. Olivia looked over. "What was that all about?"

"...I'm headed for Kansas City tomorrow, it's private."


	11. Chapter 11: St Louis to Kansas City

Chapter 11: St. Louis to Kansas City

Calvin wasn't feeling easy that morning. With things moving as fast as they had been, who could be? He rolled out of bed and fixed himself some pancakes, glad that he could enjoy them without Rocky digging up the front yard. He sat down to eat just as the phone started to ring. He'd started to dread that. In the past few days the phone had only ever meant serious calls from Mordecai. He wasn't sure he was ready for another one of those. He was pleasantly surprised when he picked up the phone, then.

"Hello?"

"Calvin? It's Ivy." He knew something was up right away. First, he never once heard her start a phone call and call him 'Calvin'. Freckle had become a sort of pet name for him, and she tended to take advantage of that. The other issue was how dejected she sounded in the first few words of the entire call. Calvin braced himself for bad news.

"Oh, good morning, how're you?" He asked, sitting down.

"I'm okay. Listen, Calvin, Mitzi...told my father about-" He heard her hesitate and shakily sigh. "Mitzi told my father about all this."

"All the dealings with-"

"Calvin I need you to meet me at the train station at 8:30." Train station?

"You're leavi-"

"We'll discuss it there…" She made a 'mwah' noise as she did and hung up. Calvin ate slowly, his eyes on the clock. _Alice Left, too,_ he thought, _she's got to do this for her own safety._ He wasn't finished by 8 o'clock, even though he's started then. He rushed his way to the train station, making it with 10 minutes to spare. He found Ivy, who was standing there in a very casual middy blouse and carrying a large suitcase. She didn't know how long she'd be away. "Oh, Calvin, you're here!" She hugged him tightly, squeezing him. He hugged back, kissing her forehead. "Ivy...where are you going?"

"Kansas city." She said, looking up at him. "Dad's paying for the train. I dunno how long I'll be up there...I...wrote down operator instructions to call when you're done with all this." She handed it over to him. Calvin put it in his pocket. Ivy was huddled close, shivering. "You're cold, here-"

"I won't be able to give it back." She said.

"No, please, I have more." He handed her his tweed jacket and she put it on, smiling. "It even matches." He smiled back, looking her over. "It does." Calvin looked at the large clock in the hall of the station. "We still have 8 minutes."

"I don't want to go." Ivy crossed her arms. "I want to be here for you incase something happens." She looked upset more than sad. She just looked...angry. This wasn't her being grounded or something, her favorite person was in danger and she couldn't even come over to check on him. "I know it's safer but I don't care, I just want to stay here!" She was fuming, sitting on her suitcase. "It's just...I don't even understand why he'd try to hurt me! He wants you!"

"If he wants to smoke me out, he could hurt you to do it."

"I guess." She looked down. She looked at the clock. "5 minutes." She said. Calvin picked her up, holding her hands tight, just like when he danced with her. He looked into her eyes. "Ivy," Calvin pulled her a little closer, "I know it's not what you'd normally do, but it really is safer." Ivy pulled away. "You sound just like my father." She turned to face the other way from him and picked up her suitcase. Calvin looked down. "I'm sorry."

Ivy turned around. "It's fine, I just...blew up a little there." She got closer. "I'm not mad at _you_ , I promise. I'm just mad at Dad and Mitzi and...this stupid man coming and trying to kill you and your stupid friend!" She hugged him tight and huffed into his shoulder. "I hate having to leave! I love it here!" Calvin rubbed her back and kissed her ear. "I know, I know. I wish I could change all of this. I wish I could just throw this all away and just have time to spend with you."

Ivy looked at the clock, still burrowed into his shoulder. "2 minutes. Can we walk to the platform?" The two of them walked to the train and she handed the conductor her ticket. She started up onto one of the passenger cars. She turned around. "Calvin?"

"Hmm?"

"When I come back I need you to be alive." She kissed him softly on his lips. A quick one, but a meaningful one. "I love you, Calvin."

"I love you too." He held her hand until she was on the train. He started to walk back. "Poor you," a random voice said from the crowd. It was a stranger. "Has to hurt letting someone go like that…" it was an old man, who was quick to put a few taps on Calvin's shoulder. "She'll be back."

"Oh, I know she will. First time she's been away."

"What's brought her away?" Calvin hesitated.

"She's seeing her father."

"Oh? You're not going with?"

"I have work." He said. The old man walked with Calvin. "I know how that feels. My wife used to do that a lot, her father was sort of sickly. Eventually we just decided to move here." The old man smiled. "Don't worry, youngster, just remember that pain has a way of blowing over." Calvin smiled and tipped his hat at the man as he got into a car with an older woman inside and drove off. Calvin hoped that he'd get that old at some point. With the current situation, he wasn't so sure. He wasn't sure he was mad, either. He was upset, but this was the right choice. Safety is important, but it just wasn't quite right how it'd happened. So sudden and out of the blue. If he hadn't been up to answer the phone, could everything have ended?

Calvin got back home and picked out another jacket. He threw out the stale leftovers of breakfast and sat in the living room. He just sat for a while. Actually sitting and not doing anything was nice. He reveled in the peace for a bit, glad to be free from worry about former police detectives and death threats and Mordecai's frightening office. He just wished Ivy could be there.

Ivy probably would have, too, but the train ride wasn't so bad. At the very least, the train was smooth. She barely felt the tracks. She picked a spot where she could see the sunrise and the early morning light. It was gorgeous, the sun spilling into the car. It was still a little cold out, it being so early in the year. She wrapped up in Calvin's jacket. It was the closest thing she had. She smiled gently. _He'll be fine,_ she said, _he's been through much worse._ She tried to get a bit of extra sleep.

And she wished Calvin was there, too.


	12. Chapter 12: The Night

Chapter 12: The Night

Some days it rains. Rainy days are, to many people, extremely dramatic. Sad goodbyes happen on rainy days, as to funerals and the beginnings of scary stories. Ships break deep in horrible storms, and rain was, as the old folks would tell you, common in the civil war after battles, when death was looming everywhere the eye could see.

Today, however, was not a rainy day. Not in the slightest. It was sunny, 65 degrees, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. The low was only supposed to be around 50, so not even bone chilling in the evening, although a spat of rain would move in around 9:30. It would be the perfect day for a stroll in the park or a picnic in the country. Happy things happen on sunny days.

Not this sunny day. Not here. Tonight was the meeting.

Ronan barely ate. He watched the hours tick by. Slow. Gruelling. Work felt 10 hours longer that day. He finally clocked out and headed back to his small apartment. He quickly showered, hoping that time would start moving faster now that work was done. It didn't. He put on a simple outfit; an aran jumper over a shirt and tie. He just...waited. And waited, and waited. He was going to be driven there by Mordecai, who would drop him at the park around 8:40. He'd wait for Eric while Calvin and Mordecai got set up. He wasn't sure he was ready. He was a big man, but not a violent or particularly brave one. For all he knew, he was going to die tonight, and the girl he loved wouldn't be there for it. Would she want to be there? Surely not...but maybe? He had no idea. He watched the hours tick by.

7:30

Calvin had just finished dressing in a large wool sweater and some gray slacks. He wasn't planning on this being a great evening either, and he knew that it might not end well. The thin layers would be easier for a surgeon like Elsa Arbogast to get through. Mordecai had arranged for them to be able to take him. Calvin had even gotten his blood type checked over the wait for the meeting. He figured it would be important. That day he hadn't spoken at all to Ivy over the phone. Ivy hadn't called. He knew she hadn't forgotten about him, but maybe she was still upset about being there. He looked at the clock after a bit of restless pacing.

8:00

Mordecai had eaten some stew that Viktor had attempted to make for dinner. Viktor wasn't the best at integrating more than red meat and potatoes into meals, but he at least tried. Mordecai saw this as little more than a typical job. He might need to drive faster than usual, but he was fully capable of doing so. He was dressed smartly, the usual 3 piece dark gray suit, and marigold pin. He would need that in case the night went wrong and he had to shuttle someone to the Arbogasts. He looked at his watch.

"8:15. You mentioned you'd help clean if we needed it?" He looked over at Viktor. "Ja." Viktor said. Viktor couldn't help too much in a fight anymore, but he would at least be helpful in dressing the scene in case they needed him to. The two piled in, went to get Calvin, and after collecting him, went to get their bait.

Ronan looked outside of his apartment and saw a car. It didn't look familiar. He braced. _Could it be Eric?_ He thought. The knock on the door proved him wrong. It was Calvin. "Ronan? It's time...are you ready?" Ronan slowly nodded and shakily walked out the door. "Don't worry, we'll be right behind you. You'll be fine." Ronan nodded, nervous, shaking, and silent the whole way to the park, sitting next to the man who just a few days before had been shoving him up against a wall. The two said nothing to each other.

The bridge over the reservoir was the furthest point in the park from just about anything. You'd have to be trying to hear something from there, and even if you heard shots, it would probably sound less like a gun and more like the din of a city at night; someone dropping something out of a car or a stray twig brought in from the park being snapped by a cart. It wasn't immune, by any means, but as long as the scene was cleaned up it would be okay. Mordecai looked over at Calvin. "If you fire shots, kick the shells off the bridge. They'll sink."

"And blood?"

"The rain will take care of it this evening if any is left. Otherwise, I've got a pale and Viktor has rags. He's agreed to help clean."

"I vant to be helpful. It's been avhile."

"Why don't you just beat him up, then, big guy?" Ronan said nervously. Viktor looked down at him, his one eye glaring. "This man has working knees. Not job for Viktor."

They got to the park. The parked their car outside of the gates nearest the bridge, evidently hard to spot from the road, and all walked to the meeting place. They pushed Ronan towards the middle of it, themselves hiding behind trees. Mordecai readied his gun, and Calvin opened a trombone case which held a thompson he'd 'acquired' from the Daisy. Viktor just hid. He was scary enough that the man wouldn't be able to think at him, let alone shoot at him. But they needed him _dead_. And bare hands can only do so much. Everything was set. Mordecai looked at his watch.

9:00.

Ronan looked out at the water. At least the last thing he'd see was something beautiful. The front was moving in and coating half the sky in clouds that were only visible because of the moon. He heard footsteps on the bridge, and saw...him. Wearing a trench coat and a large brimmed hat. He looked over. "You're…"

Eric didn't miss a beat. "The marigold employer."

"Let me get a look at yer face."

"I don't need t-"

"NOW." He demanded. He was trying his best to be brave. He was horrified. The man lowered his collar and took off his hat. "You remember me, now, don't you?" He grinned evilly, and Ronan froze. "I...yes, I-"

"Where's Calvin?" He pulled out a gun. The two were standing on the bridge center, now, with Ronan pressed up to the railing. If he moved...he got shot. Ronan looked around. He was shaking. "I-I haven't seen-"

"WHERE, BOY!?" The gun was pressed into his stomach. Ronan shook his head, a few tears of fear running down his cheeks. "P-please, don't do this t'me, I just...I have a family now!"

"Well, if they want to keep you, you'll tell me where he is!"

"He's right here, Mister Holmes." Mordecai stepped out. And so did Calvin. Calvin tried his best to hide the tommy gun behind him, and it did work, mostly, if only because of the darkness. "Mr. Getler. I'm glad you could come...fetched the other one, too, now?" Eric pointed his gun at Calvin, walking swiftly towards him and ensuring he got a clear shot. "Stay there Ronan. Mr. Getler, I'm not the best shot, you'll walk him closer?" He didn't have to, only around 20 feet separated the two now.

He shot.

Calvin lurched over, gripping his side...but this was just the beginning. His eyes went wide, and Ronan ran towards him, thinking he'd died. Calvin looked up, smiling. The same wide, horrified, blood lusting smile that Eric had seen all those years ago. "Shot...sh...shoot...SHOOT ME, WILL YE!?" Eric couldn't lift his gun before being riddle with holes. The bridge wasn't even hit, just the cat with white fur. He crumpled up on the ground and Calvin stopped shooting. "HAUNT ME NOW! HAUNT MY DREAMS NOW! DO IT, YE RAT BASTARD! HAHAHAHhahahaha...haaaa...oooooo…" He fell to the ground, gripping his side. The rage had worn off. "Calvin!" Ronan rushed over to him. Mordecai lifted him off. "Go tell Mitzi what happened."

"But...Calvin'S been sho-"

" _Now_. I will take care of that. Kick those shells into the water, too. Viktor!" Viktor came out from behind the tree. "Get the body in the trunk, Calvin and I are heading to the farm. Not the longest drive." Viktor silently nodded. He loaded the body into Mordecai's Duesenberg model X, a gift from Atlas from a year ago. He got Calvin in as well, thanking god the roof was still up. "Viktor, are you coming with?"

"No. I'll slow you down. Mitzi vill come."

"The rain?"

"I'll be fine." He said, looking at the bridge. "I must clean. You must go. Ja?"

"Ja." Mordecai responded back. He quickly drove off. The engine roared and Calvin huffed. "How..fast...how long?"

"We can hit 100 in this thing while the roads are still good. Let's keep going."

The two drove hard, with blood coming out fast from Calvin. After a while he took off the sweater and bound it around his waist, trying to stem the flow. It worked, at least for a bit, though he had to pull it tight and his grip was loosening over time. "How...long now?"

"I'm surprised you made it this long. We're 10 out. Can you hold on for 10 minutes?"

"I can...try...ahhh…" He looked at the wound. He winced. "O-oh god...I'm gonna die. He just...grazed...but I'm…" He fell in and out of consciousness. They were so close…

Bobby and Abelard were loading alcohol in the barn. Wes was there, with another few Marigold men. Mordecai's pin would be helping him win an argument hopefully. He parked right behind them. The rain was starting. He got out of the car and dragged Calvin out of it alongside him. Calvin was awake and walking, at least, though his body felt heavy.

"Bobby! Where's Elsa?"

"Pardon?" Bobby caught a glimpse of the wounded, shirtless cat with a bloody former sweater around his waist. "Oh, heavens! She'll be inside...take him to the basement." Wes looked over. "Mordecai? What happened?"

"None of your business, Wes."

"Is it Asa's?" Mordecai hobbled over to Wes, pressing his gun against his neck. "Who's Asa? I've never met him." Wes got the message to keep quiet. He went inside, still carrying Calvin. "Elsa? I have a problem."

"Mordec-oh. I suppose things went wrong." She'd talked with him at length over the phone. She was, in short, prepared for this sort of problem.

"He's b-. At least that's what his doctor said."

"Alright. I might have some...how long has he been bleeding?"

"I drove as fast as I could." Elsa cut the sweater and looked over the wound. "God...only a graze but a big one." She started to treat it. "Calvin, are you there? Calvin? Calvin?"

Calvin looked up at the ceiling. Things were getting hard to feel, and where he could feel, it got cold. He heard "I have b- from a body we embalmed and I need to be quick…" before starting to phase out.

Ivy sighed and drooped her ears. "But...you don't want those last thoughts of yours to be about how you never said 'I love you', right? That would be even worse." She said.

Calvin thought a moment, his face in his hands. He looked up at her.

"I figure it might be, yes." He said.

"Wouldn't you rather be able to think about this?" She kissed him gently. It was somehow better than the 'movie kiss' in the pig truck, and he found himself standing and hugging her tightly, pulling away from her lips.

"It would be miles better for that to flash by."

Ivy smiled and looked up at him. "I think so, too." She looked out to the floor. "We came here to dance, right?"

"We did."

"So let's get to it!"

As the two danced, Calvin was glad these were his last thoughts. He was happy that his last memories were with Ivy, even if his last moments couldn't be.

But they weren't his last memories. Nor his last moments. Because while he was dancing with Ivy, he would blink-

and wake up in a basement somewhere in Defiance on a medical bed.


	13. Chapter 13: Finnegan's Wake

Chapter 13: Finnegan's Wake

Mitzi took a 5 hour train ride that day, only to take a 5 hour train ride back to St. Louis. She'd heard about what had gone down, about Calvin's condition...how he'd lived, but just barely, and how they weren't sure when he'd be fully recovered. She'd heard that the next morning, no blood had been seen or anything like it. She knew that Mordecai was still in Defiance. And she knew that Ivy wouldn't be too pleased to hear about Calvin.

It was 1:45. She got to Ruby's door. She found Ivy, sitting out front. She'd phoned early in the morning. "Ivy...did I tell you everything?"

"Most of it…"

"Walk with me, sweetie." Ivy nodded and walked, still wearing Calvin's jacket. She smiled a little. "So he got him, right? You told me that?" Mitzi had splurged a little bit and had opted for a more luxurious train, a bit more spacious. Still, she whispered. "Well...he did, yes. But he...got hit."

Ivy's eyes went wide. "...he's alive right?" She gripped Mitzi's hand. "He's alive? And he's gonna be waiting for me at the station, right? He's gonna be there and...and I'm gonna hug him and give him his jacket back?" She started to tear up. She wasn't about to have spent 4 days away from every one of her friends and come back to a dead Calvin, was she?

"Oh, Ivy, dear...he's alive. But he's not holding on with very much. Apparently they had to put a lot of blood in him." She said. "They had to drain it from some random corpse they had lying around...at least that one died in a car wreck or the blood couldn't-"

"But he's alive?"

"...yes."

Ivy nodded and choked back tears. "Good...I was worried when he didn't call." She covered her mouth with her hand. "Is he in St. Louis?"

"Defiance, with the Arbogasts." She nodded. "I'll have Wick drive you as soon as you get back if you'd like? I would but I can't do so much travel in one day."

"I would love that."

Meanwhile, Elsa wiped her brow, washing a blood soaked rag in the sink. She looked over at Mordecai. "It's a miracle he survived." Mordecai nodded. "If that man hadn't died when he did we'd have a corpse with us."

"Poetic, isn't it? Death begat life. It rarely does."

"Hmm. What did you do with that body?"

"Oh, I dumped him in the swamp early this morning. Is Calvin awake?"

"No. But he's breathing. And his heart's beating. Best we can hope for right now."

Bobby came downstairs and looked at Calvin. "Well, Elsa, you did a good job on this one! Barely escaped, eh?"

"Yes."

Calvin was still shirtless. He didn't have one. He was wrapped in a large bandage that covered the wound, and under a blanket. He very groggily and shakily woke up, sputtering. "Ahhh….it...it's bright."

"Calvin?" Elsa asked, heading over to him. "Can you hear me?'

"Yes…"

"Can you see me?"

"I can, yes." he looked over. Elsa spoke again. "Do you feel funny?"

"I feel...cold. And in pain. A lot of pain. In my side. It that the wound?"

"Yes...it'll take a while."

"How'd you do it? I was on the brink."

"You can ask Richard Parsons when you go to his tombstone as soon as you can walk." She pointed over to a body under a sheet. "b-." She looked over at him. "Blood had to go somewhere." Calvin sat up, rubbing his head. "I feel awful...is that normal?"

Bobby nodded. "You've been shot, son. I assure you it's normal." Mordecai got up. "You two keep him company. I have to get going." He left without even saying anything to Calvin. As far as he was concerned, the target was gone and the client was safe. He was done. Calvin moved his hands, and looked at the ceiling. "So...what now?"

"Well, when Mordecai called Mitzi, she said said she'd send someone around 7 o'clock. I guess a girl named Ivy."

"Ivy? Good." Bobby patted Calvin's head. "It's been a rough night for you, now, hasn't it? Did you get any sleep?"

"Sort of?"

"Close enough…"

The hours passed. The train chugged along, and got back to the station right on time, as was the nature of such things. The railroad was consistent. Ivy got off and went to the daisy and got right in the car with Wick. "Wick! I can give you directions." Mitzi kissed Wick gently and walked inside. Wick looked over. "Enjoy your stay in Kansas City?"

"It wasn't awful...but it was pretty boring. No Calvin, no Helen or Olivia, the bars there aren't even as fun." She said. She stretched and smiled. "I'm just happy to be back! Oh- take a left up here, will you?"

Eventually, they got there. Wick hadn't brought much...just some food and a spare change of clothes, figuring that he'd want something to wear that wasn't stuff he'd almost died in. Wick was tired, having attended long business meetings from 7 in the morning to 6 at night, but at least he was going to visit Calvin, and not to his wake. He walked out of the car, looking at the place. Abelard almost frightened him to death when he stood up. "Who're you? Oh...the child from before."

Wick pointed to himself. "I'm flattered, but I-"

"Not you, the girl. Just...go inside. He's in the basement."

"You and he have a history?" Wick whispered to Ivy as they walked in, heading down the steps to the basement.

"Not dating, just...it's complicated. Y'know how Rocky has that giant gash in his head?"

"Well, Ivy!" Bobby smiled and shook her hand. "He's this way. I know you're not possibly interested in little old me~" He joked. Ivy chuckled, but it all stopped when she saw the state that Calvin was in. Of course, he wasn't dead, but he was pretty rough looking. The fur around the bandages was matted and dark red, and his eyes were hollow. His fur was messy and his ears were drooping low. "Ivy." His voice, even, was shaking and weak. The sharp brogue he spoke with that warmed the room before now seemed to chill the air, sounding tragic and hoarse.

"Calvin...oh, c'mere!" She hugged him, careful not to touch the bandages. "You're alive...you're safe!" She kissed him deep and hard. She pulled away and smiled. "Well...you kept your promise, didn't you?"

"I guess so. Barely." He held her close and looked over. "Wick...nice of you to come."

"Nice of you to not die." He said. He patted his shoulder and put the clothes at the foot of his bed. "Who's the doctor, when're you out of here?" Elsa walked over and moved the clothes. "I'm the doctor. He'll be out in a few days I think. Until then we'll take care of him." Wick nodded. "And visiting hours are…"

"Whenever we're awake, I suppose. And whenever the Marigold personnel aren't around." She shrugged. Bobby put his hands on his hips. "They always liked exclusivity, but what they don't know won't hurt them." Ivy nodded. "Elsa? You gotta promise they won't find him."

"We're moving him upstairs tonight. He'll be fine."

"Glad to hear it." They heard another knock on the door, and some more feet down the steps of the basement.

"Of course, the syrups the most fun part, so you have to be-Well, if it isn't the hole-y one himself! Can't be almost dying like that too often, Freckle!" Rocky hugged Calvin a little...less carefully than Ivy had. Calvin winced. "Ahh...hi Rocky. Can you watch where yer...gripping?"

"Oh, the uh...the wound. Oops." He shrugged. "Anyway, I am very glad you're okay. I dunno what I'd do with myself if I found out you'd been shot based off of information _I_ got!"

"I appreciate it."

"I also brought your friend here." Ronan peeked his head out from the stairwell and walked into the room. "Calvin." He said. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked over. "Thanks for all this. I dunno how to pay you back, really."

"It was both our problem, it's fine." Ronan teared up, and started bawling, hugging Calvin close. Calvin hugged back...he'd been getting a lot of those today. But whereas Ivy's was an 'I missed you so much' hug and Rocky's was an 'awkward relative hug', this was a much more 'I was horrified and I'm glad it's over' hug. "I'm so sorry I brought this to you, Calvin, this is my fault...I should've gone somewhere else." he sat back on the bed. "I wish I could find a good way to apologize, but-"

"Ronan." Calvin smiled. "There's nothing you could've done. I promise you. You did what you could to help." Ronan smiled, happy to hear his friend say that. "Alice is coming back from the station, I phoned her this morning. I have to go. Rocky, I'll leave it at the spot you said, aye?"

"Of course, my Irish chum." Ronan stared at Calvin for a moment, then kissed his forehead. "I'll see you someday."

"Aye. Someday." And with that, Ronan left.

Wick, Ivy, Rocky, Calvin, and the Arbogasts enjoyed a bit of conversation together. Calvin even got up and walked a little, going upstairs and standing on the porch. He smiled at Ivy. "Ivy?'

"Freckle?"

"I'm glad you're safe."

"I'm glad you're safe, too." She kissed him once more, that must've been the 14th time today. Neither cared. They were glad to be okay.

"Goodnight, Calvin...I'll visit tomorrow after classes!"

"Goodnight, Ivy. Tell the others I said hello."

"I will!"

They loaded up and left. Elsa watched them drive off. "You really love her don't you?"

"More than anything in the world." Elsa helped him inside. "I guess I was just afraid we'd be taken away from each other...I want to say thank you for helping me. I wouldn't be here without it."

"Truth be told, you weren't supposed to make it."

"Pardon?"

"We pumped maybe 7 pints of blood in you. 7 pints of a random person. Other than the blood type your safety was a gamble."

"I guess I'm just lucky then?"

"Blessed, I'd say."

"Blessed sounds nice." He smiled at her. "I'm gonna get some sleep."

"You do that. I will, too."

"Goodnight."

Calvin headed up to bed, staring out the window. The view reminded him of the pastoral view he'd seen in Ireland, all those years ago. He could see the stars. He hoped that he and Ivy would live in a little house in the country someday. Now that he was out of the woods of his biggest nightmare, it was much easier to dream about it. He thoroughly intended to.

And for the first time in days, he got a good night's sleep.


End file.
